Tipping the Balance
by bekethemunch
Summary: Two half-breeds: one angelic, one demonic. Their love is real... and so is forgiveness. But the choice is theirs.
1. Deported

The alleyway was empty, lit only by occasional flashes of lightning and the flickering of the streetlamp above 5-year old Daniel's head. He cowered behind his hiding place, a telephone pole that offered no protection from the icy rain pounding down around him, plastering his bangs to his forehead. His mother stood only a few feet away, the red gleam in her eyes glowing with a hellish fire, a snarl pulling back her lips. Her gaze was trained on the dark haired man standing not far from her. Dressed in a simple black suit and holding a weapon of origin that Daniel did not care to trace in his hand, he stared back at Daniel's mother with equal malice.

For a few moments the two stood motionless, staring each other down; sizing up the enemy. The end of the cigarette in the man's mouth glowed red briefly as he pulled on it, and Daniel shivered at the likeness of the fiery glow to the demonic red in his mother's eyes. Carelessly, the man removed the cigarette from his mouth with his thumb and forefinger, exhaling a cloud of smoke and casually dropping the butt to the ground, grinding it out with his shoe.

Finally, he spoke, his voice displaying almost a sense of boredom, his facial expression still stony.

"You're in violation of the balance," he said coolly, raising an eyebrow and barely curling his lip. "Either you can get your sorry ass out of here, or-" he paused and raised his weapon slightly, holding it at the ready. Daniel flinched, but his mother didn't move. "Or I deport you back to hell." he finished, a note of something like sardonic cheerfulness in his voice.

"Who are you, human?" Daniel's mother spat, snarling as she slowly backed away. But the man was through with talking. He attacked with no warning, pointing the weapon in his hand point-blank at her, pulling the trigger. A great column of fire billowed out from its barrel, momentarily illuminating the dark street. As abruptly as it had been there it was gone, but Daniel's mother was nowhere to be seen.

Whimpering with fear, Daniel looked about frantically for any sign of his mother, but she had seemingly disappeared without a trace. The man was looking about suspiciously as well, when a hideous screech drew both of their gazes to the sky. Above their heads was Daniel's mother, all semblance of her human form shed in favor of her demonic body. Giant, leathery wings had grown from her back and beat the air, keeping her aloft, and her once beautiful face had changed into a sneering visage of death.

With another horrible cry, she launched herself at the man, and Daniel hid his eyes as the two attacked each other, soon locked in a battle the ferocity of which neither had ever experienced. Abandoning his fiery weapon for a glittering dagger, the man in black savagely fought with all his strength, the demon matching him blow for blow. However, the wings that had saved Daniel's mother's life before ended up becoming her downfall. Hindered by their bulk and unable to fly because of the close range of her assailant, she raised her fist to deliver a fatal strike when she was caught by her wing and pulled down. Shrieking, she thrashed about wildly in an attempt to pull free, but the man's grip was too strong. Slowly but surely, he reeled her in until his face was only inches from hers.

With a snarl, the man pushed her to the ground and pressed his mouth close to her ear, a light burning feverishly in his eyes. Smiling grimly, he hissed into her ear the phrase burned into Daniel's memory forevermore.

"This is Constantine. John Constantine. Asshole."

Moving too quickly for Daniel's eyes to follow, he pulled a ring of what looked like keys out of his coat pocket and quickly selected one. Swiftly, he pressed it to her forehead, and she screamed in agony, the symbol etched into the key burned into her flesh. With a burst of light, the street seemed to explode, and in a cloud of smoke and debris, Daniel was sent flying into the wall of a nearby building.

Battered and bruised, Daniel picked himself up, coughing painfully as the smoke cleared, only to gag on the thick smell of sulfur lingering in the air. Staggering out into the middle of the street, he collapsed at Constantine's feet, struggling to maintain consciousness. Suddenly, he felt a hand with a grip like iron grab him by the shirt collar, hefting him into the air. Glancing up fearfully, he found himself looking directly into the cold eyes of the famous exorcist.

"Well, well, well," he said, with a mocking smile, "I see she left behind a little half-breed bastard." Dropping him unceremoniously in a heap, Constantine stared down at him, flipping out a lighter and a cigarette.

"God. What kind of fucked-up life does the son of a demon live?" he said, as if to himself, lighting up and drawing deeply on his cigarette. "I should probably just deport you now, instead of having to wait to do it once you're older."

Daniel tried to pick himself up, but Constantine leaned over and pressed him back down with a surprisingly gentle hand.

"Sorry kid," he said gruffly, "but I can't have you sticking around."

Tired and in too much pain to do anything else, Daniel simply watched Constantine fish through his ring of keys, watched him frown thoughtfully at each one until he found one that seemed appropriate.

"Hopefully we won't see each other again," Constantine said dryly, taking Daniel's wrist and poising the key above the spot where he would press it into his skin. Daniel choked and tears slid out from under his closed eyes despite his efforts to hold them back. He had always been told that crying was only for weaklings, the people who would never survive, the people who would always be wiped out. The people with feelings. But this time, he couldn't stem their flow, and he felt so helpless and so desperate that he didn't care anymore.

Constantine lowered the key and firmly pressed it to the underside of Daniel's wrist. For a split second nothing happened; then pain unlike anything Daniel had ever experienced before went flooding through his body. Coursing through every vein, every particle of his being, pounding furiously against every nerve, the pain was all-consuming and inescapable.

Screaming in agony, Daniel writhed in convulsions of tortured anguish, when suddenly everything stopped. For a moment, he felt nothing, he saw nothing, he heard nothing… then white light flooded his vision, and he felt Constantine release his wrist, felt it fall limply to his side.

"What the hell?" muttered Constantine, shielding his eyes against the brilliant glow that lit the dark alleyway, squinting down the street.

"Funny that you should use that particular curse, Mr. Constantine." came a quiet voice, the blinding white light dissipating and growing darker until all that remained was the softly glowing figure of a woman dressed in white in the middle of the street. The most dazzlingly beautiful woman Daniel had ever seen, a majestic pair of white, feathered wings came from her back and illuminated the entire alley. She looked on Daniel with a pitying, sorrowful gaze and bent down, gathering his limp body into her arms.

"What are you doing here?" Constantine asked quietly, a note of anger and frustration creeping into his voice.

"I might ask you the same question," the angel looked at him, her voice suddenly severe. "After you deported that demon you should have left right away."

Constantine snorted. "And left the kid alone on the street to be taken in by some more of his kind?" he spat. "Fat chance."

"It doesn't matter." the angel said coldly. "You know that you are expressly prohibited from deporting anything that has not been in violation of the balance. This boy," she paused and looked fondly down at Daniel, who now lay unconscious, cradled in her embrace. "This boy…he's so young. He's still capable of being remolded, capable of learning to fight his darker side. Can't you see? If you gave him a chance, he could not only defy his demonic side, but be one of Heaven's greatest allies!"

"You're all the same, you know that?" Constantine said bitterly, turning away from the angel. "You're all so goddamned eager to give everyone another chance. Everyone except me."

She sighed. "How many times do we have to tell you that you can not buy your way back into heaven?"

"Not enough." Constantine snapped back. "So you really think you can teach that kid to be…" he let out a derisive laugh, "_un_-demonic?"

"It has been done before," the angel replied softly.

"This is bullshit," Constantine said angrily. "This is complete bullshit. You do what you want to do, and don't come running back to me begging for help when he turns on you. I'm leaving."

"Which you were supposed to right after you deported his mother." the angel replied wryly. "Have a nice day."

As John Constantine angrily strode away from the dark alley and Daniel Tenenbaum lay in an angel's arms, the sun began to rise over the horizon.


	2. Nothing New

Sorry this chapter is so short, guys! it was originally going to be one long chapter, but I truncated it so i could update sooner. Expect the next installment (which will be much longer) in a few days.

And to thank my first reviewers...

Bluechocobo, miuixtli, Haven of Darkness, and Marille

YOU ROCK MY WORLD!

and without further ado...

CHAPTER TWO! (holy shit. That rhymed. I'm going to ditch school and become a free-lance poet.)

(20 years later)

Daniel was tired of searching. He was tired of waking up every morning feeling even more hopeless than before. He was tired of looking for someone who would be different from the rest, someone who would actually care. He was tired of the same goddamn bullshit that surrounded every second of his pointless time in his pointless "mission" that he had inflicted upon himself.

Daniel was tired of life.

Hidden in the shadows of Papa Midnite's bar, he waited and watched, excluded from the world. Scorned by half-demons because of his refusal to join them and shunned by the half-angels because of what he was, he stood alone. Alone, he lurked in his dark corner every day and searched for someone who would help him. Many half-breeds he had tried to ask for help, those that looked different from the rest, but every derisive rejection and every adamant refusal wore him down a little more each time. His only real friend was Midnite himself, but his infuriating policy on neutrality drove Daniel crazy, and no pleas for his help, no amount of begging, could move the man who revealed so little, yet knew so much.

So Daniel remained alone.

"_Find Constantine…_

_…he will have the answers you seek." _


End file.
